Choices Made, Chances Taken
by BekahLeigh
Summary: In the days before the dead began to rise, Daryl Dixon and Carol Peletier were nothing more than two people living with the choices they had made in their lives. But what will happen when their paths cross in a place where neither one of them wanted to be. Will they take a chance on each other? (Rated T for now, M for later chapters) Daryl/Carol, Merle/Beth, Sophia, Ed. AU
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: This story is inspired by a review I received on Changes (****_Which I swear to all of you, I have not abandoned. I will finish it, one of these days. Real life has gotten very busy lately and then this popped into my head and I just had to write it. I can't help it, I got a fever and the only cure is more Caryl._****) Whoever left it wasn't logged in and if it was you please let me know so that I can thank you properly. A suggestion was made that Carol would admit that prior to the ZA, she had been forced to work as a dancer by Ed. Now, trying to keep her in character, I couldn't go quite that far, but I was intrigued by the setting of a strip club. So this is my interpretation of that suggestion. Please read on!**

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Daryl hated this place. He hated everything about it. The thick smoke that hung in the air, the country music that blasted through the room, the sweaty, drunken men that leered at the dancers and threw dollar bills onto the stage, hooting and hollering like a bunch of animals. He had never considered himself to be a classy guy or anything, he was as white trash as they came, but this place was too much, even for him. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't be caught dead in a strip club, but when his brother had called him and asked him to meet him here, he couldn't say no. He hadn't seen the son of a bitch in months, not since he had been popped for possession, and though he couldn't really say he had missed him all that much, he was still his brother and for reasons that he couldn't even really understand himself, he was loyal to him and he usually did whatever was asked of him. But right now, sitting alone at a table, nursing a drink that he had grabbed at the bar, he wanted nothing more than to punch Merle right in the teeth.

He glanced around the crowded room, trying not to think about the fact that he had been sitting here for nearly a half hour and Merle was still nowhere to be found. His growing anger must have been visible on his face, because not a single one of the scantily clad women moving around the room dared to approach him. And for that, he was grateful. He tried to avoid women in general, they made him nervous as hell. But these kinds of women, bleach blondes and fake redheads with too much makeup and not enough clothing, they just annoyed him. He tried to ignore them as he finished off the last of his drink, but he found that his eye kept being drawn back to one of the waitresses, a small woman with long brown hair. He couldn't help but think that she seemed as if she didn't belong here anymore than he did. She was pretty enough, her features delicate and her body lean and tight in the denim shorts and black tank top that seemed to be the waitress's uniform. But she wasn't smiling like the other girls, she wasn't flirting or touching the customers, she just kept her eyes down as she took their orders and walked over to the bar to have them filled. He watched her for a few more minutes, hoping that if he had to talk to one of these women, it would at least be her. He got his wish as she finally made her way over to him, glancing at him nervously as she quietly spoke.

"My name is Candy and I'll be your waitress this evening. Can I get you another drink?"

He couldn't help but notice her eyes. They had too much makeup on them, just like every other woman in the room, but they were so blue that he suddenly found himself speechless. Unfortunately, whenever he found himself in a situation where he didn't know what to say, he usually just went with the first thing that popped into his head. "What the fuck kind of name is Candy?" he said, regretting the rude remark almost as soon as it had passed his lips.

A small smile broke through her nervous expression and she leaned down a little closer to him as she whispered. "It's not my real name, but don't tell anyone else that. I'll get in trouble."

He was surprised to find himself smiling, it didn't happen all that often. He narrowed his eyes at her, feeling a little bold as the warm glow from the whiskey started to envelop him. "What's your real name?" he asked, breaking his gaze from her as he realized just how stupid he must sound, sitting here trying to flirt. What the fuck did he know about flirting? Or women at all for that matter? His experience was laughably limited, he hadn't been with a woman in years, and even the girls he had been with weren't anything to brag about, a few fumbling drunken encounters, before he had finally just written off the gender as a whole. It hadn't been any great loss, he would honestly just rather be alone than have to deal with the drama that women always seemed to drag along with them. He quickly wiped the smile off his face and returned his expression to his usual scowl. "Nevermind, I don't really wanna know. Just get me a beer, I ain't plannin' on stayin long."

She didn't even seem to notice that his mood had changed, she seemed to be distracted by her boss, an angry looking woman who was watching her intently and motioning for her to come to the bar. She never even looked at him as she nodded her head, her nervous expression back on her face as she spoke. "I'll be right back with your order."

He barely had a chance to watch her walk away when a pair of arms wrapped around his chest and yanked him up from his chair. He went stiff at the contact, and spun around, defensive, but instead of some unknown threat, he came face to face with one he knew all too well.

"Well, well, well, Darylina, that how you gonna greet your big brother, you just gonna stand there? Get your skinny ass over here and give old Merle some love." he said as he grabbed Daryl by the front of his shirt and pulled him into a rough embrace.

It was pretty obvious to Daryl that Merle had started celebrating his release from jail hours ago, he smelled like he had showered in Jack Daniels and the fact that he was hugging him, well, that was so damn strange that he had to be high as a kite. Once Merle had finally let him go, he sat back down, feeling a small twinge of disappointment as he looked around and found that the waitress had disappeared. Merle dropped down into the chair next to his with a thump, and a man Daryl didn't recognize joined them. He was just about to ask the guy who the fuck he was when Merle spoke up.

"Daryl, this here's a friend of mine, met him in the clink, brought me back into town since my baby brother couldn't be bothered. Thought you might show some appreciation and let him crash with us for a few days. His bitch of an old lady ran out on him and he ain't got nowhere else to stay."

The dark haired, heavyset man broke his eyes away from the girls on the stage just long enough to nod in Daryl's general direction and introduce himself. "Name's Ed." he grunted out before he returned his attention to the topless blonde that was now climbing onto the pole in the middle of the stage.

Daryl looked at Merle, not really sure what to say. He knew he was going to catch hell for it, but he had to tell him the truth. "Merle, you been gone six months. I couldn't keep up with the rent for our old place, I had to move into that shitty little trailer park just outside of town. Place is barely big enough for me. I guess if you don't mind sleepin on the floor, ya'll can crash with me for awhile, but I'm tellin' you, the place is a shithole." he said as he braced himself for his brothers reaction.

Merle looked strangely calm, maybe it was just the drugs that were almost certainly coursing through his system, but he just shrugged his shoulders. "Ain't no big deal. I'm willin' to bet that if old Merle plays his cards right, one of these lovely ladies will be kind enough to give me a warm bed to sleep in for the night." he said, gesturing to the strippers that were spread out through the room. Daryl was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when a sudden flash of anger crept onto his brother's face. "Hey, you didn't leave my bike at the old place, did ya? It was locked up in the garage."

Daryl nearly laughed. "Merle, do I look like I wanna get my ass stomped? No, I didn't leave your fucking bike in the old place. I had to sneak in with a pair of bolt cutters after that asshole landlord threw me out, but I got it. It's in the shed outside my trailer."

Merle smirked as he reached over and punched Daryl in the arm, a little harder than he would have liked. "Good boy. Nice to know you ain't completely useless."

From anyone else, Daryl would have considered the comment an insult, but from Merle, it was downright affectionate. Daryl watched as Merle turned to the man who was now practically drooling as he watched the dancers, completely oblivious to everything around him. "Ed, looks like you're on your own. Daryl ain't got room for us"

Anger crept onto Ed's face as he finally joined the conversation. "The hell you mean, I'm on my own? Where the fuck am I supposed to go? Only damn reason I gave you a ride was because you said you had somewhere to crash and now you're telling me your redneck brother doesn't have room"

Merle's expression quickly changed, a darkness creeping into his eyes as he growled. "Ed, hate to tell you this, but I don't really give a fuck where you go. Go find your old lady, get one of these whores to take you home, go sleep in your fucking car. I don't give a shit. But you insult my brother again, you gonna be sleeping in a box, permanently. Only reason I ain't kicked your ass yet is cause I just got the fuck out of a cell and I ain't really trying to go back in just yet. We understand each other?"

Ed seemed startled by the sudden turn in Merle's mood and quickly backed away, standing up from his chair as he stammered out his reply. "Whatever, it's okay. I'll find someplace. Maybe I'll see you around." he said as he quickly made his way to other side of the room.

Merle's smirk returned as he watched Ed retreat and he leaned back in his chair, quite pleased with himself. He noticed Daryl's questioning glare and spoke. "I didn't like that fucking guy any how, he ain't nothing but a pussy. Got locked up for violating a restraining order or some shit like that. I was gonna ditch him later, just needed him for the ride."

Daryl shook his head. Same old Merle, just as much of an asshole as ever. He was about to tell him so, when a waitress suddenly stopped at their table and placed a beer in front of him. He glanced up and found that it wasn't the one who had taken his order, the brunette with the sweet smile and the big blue eyes, but a young blonde girl with bright pink lips and her hair in two pigtails. He couldn't help the question that passed his lips.

"Where's the other waitress?" he asked, genuinely surprised that he even cared.

The blonde looked at him just long enough answer, telling him that she had gone on a break, before turning her attention to Merle. "I haven't seen you in here before. I'm Beth, can I get you a drink?"

Daryl watched as Merle turned on the so called "Dixon Charm", a trait that he had decided a long time ago must have passed him over. He didn't quite know how he did it, Merle was pushing fifty and he certainly wasn't the best lookng guy, but after a few minutes of not so subtle innuendo, Merle had the girl practically eating out of his hand. She giggled as she walked back to the bar to get his drink and Merle looked at Daryl. "Hope you were takin' notes, baby brother. That is how you find a bed to crash in for the night. Sweet little thing too. She can't be much older than eighteen, did you see those little titties in that tank top. Goddamn, I been locked up too long, that poor girl don't know what she's in for. Gonna get fucked five ways to Sunday."

Daryl couldn't help but feel a little bad for the girl, but he wasn't about to tell Merle that. Anyway, if she was dumb enough to take him home, she deserved whatever she got. He glanced around the room one more time, still not seeing the waitress who had caught his attention earlier. He told himself that it didn't really matter, it's not like he would have said anything to her even if she came back. He sat in silence for a while, before downing his beer in a few gulps and looking at Merle, who was watching the dancers with clear lust in his eyes. Daryl decided that he had finally had enough of this place and reached over to smack his brother on the arm. "Hey, you care if I get the hell out of here? I really don't feel like sitting here all night watching you eye fuck strippers and hit on teenagers."

Merle snapped out of his little pole dancer daydream and glanced at his brother with a smirk on his lips. "You ready to leave? You ain't even drunk yet. Stick around, maybe I can get little blondie to get you one of her friends. Unless you turned into a fag while I was locked up. Is that it? Cause you been sitting there with a shitty look on your face since I got here. Way I see it, if you can't appreciate all of the fine ass pussy in this room, you must want a great big cock instead."

Daryl could feel himself starting to get pissed, but he bit back his anger and simply glared down at Merle as he stood up from his chair. "I ain't fucking gay, I just got work in the morning. I've been up since the asscrack of dawn and if you don't fucking mind, I'd like to go home and get some sleep."

Merle shrugged his shoulders as he smirked at his brother, happy to see that he could still get a rise out of him. "Ain't no need to get so pissy about it, Darylina. Go home and get some sleep so you can go to work and earn some fucking money. I'll stop by the trailer park tomorrow night and we'll start workin' on a plan for finding a different place. I ain't plannin' on sleeping at waitresses houses forever."

With that said, he returned his attention to the girls on stage and Daryl turned to leave. When he reached the door, he nearly collided with Ed as the large man entered the building. Daryl finally released the anger that had been building up in his chest and shoved the man aside, not even bothering to stick around to see where he landed as he pushed the door open and stepped out into the cool night air. His mind was a jumbled mess as he walked towards the back of the lot where he had parked his old pickup. He hadn't really planned on moving again, he actually kind of liked his little trailer, mainly because he was alone in it. He could live his life however he wanted, even if that meant that all he ever did was work and hunt and sleep. The past six months had been pretty calm, there were no drug dealers knocking on his door in the middle of the night, or skanky girls camped out in his living room, or vials of meth on his kitchen table. Now that Merle was back, it was just a given that all of those things would return with him. But there was nothing he could do about it, Merle had taken care of him when one else would and he somehow felt as if he owed it to him to take care of him now. He had accepted this arrangement a long time ago and he didn't see it changing. This was his life. He was nothing more than a fucked up redneck, with an even more fucked up brother.

He shook the thoughts from his mind as he finally reached his truck, pulling his keys from the pocket of his worn leather jacket. He was just about to unlock the door when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye, a brown mass next to his bumper. He almost ignored it, it was probably just roadkill, but something told him to take another look. He took a few steps towards it, and upon closer inspection, it wasn't roadkill at all, it was hair. A long brown wig, hair that looked strangely familiar. He raised his eyes from the wig and that's when he saw her. The waitress, Candy, or whatever her real name was, sitting on the ground with her back leaned up against tree near the edge of the parking lot, just outside of the glow of the street lights. He couldn't see her very well in the dark, but a small surge of fear crept into his chest as he realized that she was sitting very still, a little too still. He didn't know why, but he took a few tentative steps towards her, his instincts telling him that something just wasn't right. When he finally stepped out of the glare of the overhead light and his eyes adjusted to the darkness that surrounded her, he could see that his instincts were right. She was out cold, blood running down the side of her face from an injury that was hidden by her short silver hair. Bruises were already forming on her arms and chest, dark red marks marring her pale skin. Her bag was still slung over her shoulder, but her shirt was torn, exposing one of her bare breasts and he could see now that her shorts had been pulled down her legs, the denim only held on her body by the one sneaker that she still wore.

He felt sick to his stomach as he looked at her small battered form and realized what this all most likely meant. He could have run, he could have gone back to the bar and called the cops, but he didn't. It was obvious she needed help and he couldn't imagine that she would want an ambulance blaring into the parking lot, it's flashing lights and sirens alerting everyone inside to what had happened to her. Without another thought, he raced back to his truck and grabbed the blanket that he kept in the bed. When he made it back to her, he carefully tried to cover her before lifting her into his arms, trying not to jostle her as he quickly walked back to his truck. He placed her gently in the passenger seat, receiving a small moan in response, but nothing else. She was completely still as he closed the door and raced to the driver's side, jumping up into his seat and slamming the door as he thrust his keys into the ignition and the engine roared to life. He was driven by one thought as he whipped out of the parking lot and onto the street, driving as fast as he could towards the large hospital on the other side of town. He didn't know this woman, he had no reason to care about her at all, they had spoken for the grand total of one minute, as customer and waitress in a sleazy strip joint, but none of that mattered, whoever she was, she didn't deserve this. He swore to himself in that moment, driven by the rage surging through his body, that he would find whoever did this and make him wish that he had never been born.

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**And so, our story begins. Obviously it is AU, but I will make sure that no one gets too OOC and everyone will make an appearance at some point. Thanks for reading and please take the time to follow and review! Your support means so much to me!**

**xoxoxo Bekah xoxoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Big thanks to everyone who read the first chapter and took the time to review and follow. I truly love this community and all of you guys for your support. Please, read on and enjoy!**

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Daryl peered at her from the corner of his eye as he pressed his foot harder against the gas pedal, silently willing his beat up truck to go faster. He would have thought she was dead if it wasn't for the faint rise and fall of her chest under the old wool blanket that concealed her body from his view. She hadn't moved a muscle as he sped down the highway, not even a flinch when he had thrown his arm across her to brace her as he whipped around the corner that led to the exit he needed. He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally saw the hospital come into view. He came to a screeching halt when he finally pulled up to the emergency room doors, barely managing to shift into park before he cut the engine and flung open his door, racing to open hers. He picked her up as carefully as he could, seeing that the bruising on her face had darkened in the short time that it had taken them to get here, he didn't want to hurt her further. The automatic doors slid open as he stepped into the brightly lit, sterile waiting room and he was thankful as he saw that it was empty, except for the brunette woman sitting behind the reception desk. He quickly made his way over to her and she didn't even look up from her typing as she spoke.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked, not really sounding like she gave a damn.

It took everything that Daryl had not to reach over the counter and smack the snotty bitch upside the head, but he held himself back, mainly because his hands were pretty damn full at the moment. He tried to keep his voice calm as he answered. "She needs some help. She's passed out and her head is bleedin' somethin' awful."

The receptionist finally glanced up at him and a look of horror washed over her face as she took in the sight of the waitress in his arms. She quickly jumped up from her seat and ran through a door without saying a word, only to return a few seconds later with two orderlies and a gurney, which he was instructed to lay her down on. He did as he was told and watched as she was whisked away. He still didn't understand why he cared so much, but he found himself wishing that he could follow her, just to make sure that she was okay. He was broken from this thought as he realized that the receptionist was asking him something.

"Sir, I'm going to need some information from you. What is the patient's name?" she asked as slid back into her seat and poised her fingers over the keyboard of her computer.

Daryl shrugged his shoulders as he answered. "I don't know her name. I ain't never met her before tonight." he admitted, his eyes never straying from the double doors that concealed her from his view.

The receptionist glanced at him questioningly as she typed. "You don't know her name? Can you at least tell me what happened to her? Was it a car accident? She looked pretty banged up."

Daryl reluctantly broke his gaze from the spot where he had last seen her and looked down at the receptionist. "Ain't no car accident. I just found her like that, out cold in a parking lot. But I think someone might have… um…her clothes are all torn up."

A look of realization suddenly crossed the woman's eyes and her hand automatically reached for the phone in the corner of her desk. She pointed Daryl towards a small row of chairs and spoke as she began to dial. "Sir, I'm going to need you to take a seat. I have to report this to the police and I'm sure that they're going to want to talk to you."

A slight panic rose in his chest at the mention of the police. Though he hadn't gotten into any real trouble in a few years, he still wasn't very fond of the cops, and he knew damn well that as soon as they heard his last name, they would just start making assumptions. His family had a reputation in this town, one that he was sad to admit, they had earned. He had a sudden urge to run, he hadn't told anyone his name yet, he could just leave now and never have to think about this again. But as he took a small step towards the door, the receptionist pulled the phone from her ear and covered the mouthpiece. "Sir, please, if she was attacked, you might be the only real witness. Just take a seat for me, you don't have anything to be worried about. The officer they are sending over is my husband, he's a good man, he'll do whatever he can to find who did this to her, but you need to tell him everything you know."

Daryl sighed as he realized that she was right. He had come this far, there wasn't really any turning back now. He dropped into one of the hard plastic chairs and tried to focus on something other than his racing mind. He scuffed the toe of his boot against the linoleum, staring at the pattern of the tiles. He didn't know how much time had passed as he sat this way, but when he heard the whoosh of the automatic doors and glanced up from the floor to see two uniformed officers enter, he guessed that it had been awhile. He watched as one of the officers, a big dark haired guy, nodded at the woman behind the desk and threw her a small wave before disappearing into the emergency room. The remaining officer, a thin man, leaned over the counter and kissed the small brunette on the cheek. She smiled up at him and pointed him in Daryl's direction before returning her attention to the screen in front of her.

Daryl could feel his anxiety growing as the officer made his way over to where he sat. He shouldn't have done this, he should have just called 911 and drove off, he should have gotten the fuck out of here when he had the chance. He glanced up from the floor when he saw that a pair of shiny black shoes had stepped into his view. He was surprised when he found that the man was smiling and extending his hand. Daryl reluctantly reached out and shook it briefly before the officer sat himself down in the seat next to his and spoke.

"Sir, I'm Rick Grimes, a deputy with the county police. My wife, Lori, she tells me that you brought in a woman who may have been the victim of an assault. First off, I'd just like to say thank you for bringing her in, Lori tells me she looked pretty busted up and I'm sure that she's getting the help she needs here. You did the right thing. But I'm going to need just a little more of your help tonight, I need to ask you a few questions. Is that okay?" he asked, his voice calm and professional.

Daryl wanted nothing more than to say no, but the deputy wasn't really being too bad, hell, he had actually thanked him for his actions. If someone had told him this morning that a cop would be thanking him for something, he would have thought that the person was off their goddamned nut. He could feel his tension fading as he opened his mouth to speak. "I guess that'd be okay. I ain't really sure what else I can say though. I already told the receptionist, um, your wife, that I don't really know what happened. I don't even know the woman's name. I just found her like that and brought her in."

Rick glanced up from his notepad where he was scribbling something. "I understand that, but we need a few more details than that. Let's start off with your name and address."

"Daryl Dixon, I live over in the little trailer park outside town, number 6." he said, bracing himself for the look that would inevitably come from the deputy. But the look never came, the man just wrote it down and continued with his questioning.

"Okay Mr. Dixon, I'm going to need exactly how you came to find her. Don't leave out any details, any little thing could help us find the person that did this." Rick asked calmly.

Daryl tried to recall the moment he had found her, it was a bit of a blur, it had all happened so fast. "Well, 'bout forty minutes ago, I was leavin' the bar and walkin' to my truck and I saw her slumped up against a tree. There wasn't anybody else around, I didn't see nothin' anyway. She was bleedin' and her clothes were all ripped up, like somebody messed with her. I didn't really think, I just picked her up and hauled ass over here."

Rick scribbled the information onto his notes and looked up once again, his eyes slightly narrowed. "That's all very helpful, but can you tell me exactly what bar it was. I'd like to take a look at the scene myself."

Daryl could feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he looked back down at his shoes and quietly spoke. "Um…It was…The Georgia Peach." he admitted, glancing up at Rick and seeing that his eyebrow raised as soon as he heard the name of the strip club. He didn't know why but he suddenly felt compelled to speak again. "I ain't never been there before and I ain't plannin' on ever goin' back, but that woman, she ain't a stripper or nothing, she's just a waitress."

Rick finished writing and closed his notepad as he stood up and tipped his hat. "Thank you for your help, Daryl. I promise you we'll do whatever we can to find the man that assaulted her. You're free to go, but please, if you remember anything else, give me a call." he said as pulled a card from his pocket.

Daryl stood from his chair and took the card that Rick handed him, slipping it into his pocket as he began to walk towards the door. But he found that he couldn't leave, not just yet. He watched as Rick made his way back over to his wife and before he had a chance to stop himself, he called over to the pair. "Is she gonna be okay?"

Rick didn't say anything, but the brunette woman, Lori, glanced up from her work and and looked at him with understanding in her eyes. "I don't really know. I couldn't tell you even if I did, you aren't family. But she's in good hands, you did a good thing tonight. You know what, just give me one second, let me see if they got her to wake up, it's the least I can do." she said as she hopped up from her seat.

Daryl quickly shook his head, clearly uncomfortable. "You ain't gotta do that." he said, but it was too late, she was already gone. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to stick around to find out, but the emergency room door swung open and the other deputy stepped out with a hard look on his face. Fear once again seized Daryl's heart as his mind filled with new thoughts. What if she was dead? What if he hadn't gotten here fast enough or he had hurt her by picking her up. Why did he even care? He was a Dixon, after all, and usually he was the type of man who couldn't give two shits about the people around him. His fears were quickly pushed aside, however, as he heard the dark haired deputy speak.

"She's gonna be okay. It looks like she was raped, but there's no evidence, the guy must have worn a condom. Didn't leave anything behind but a concussion and some bruising. She doesn't remember anything, said someone hit her on the head and she blacked out."

Daryl felt a small surge of relief as he heard that she was awake and talking, but it was quickly replaced by a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. His earlier fears had been confirmed. The little waitress with the big blue eyes and the sweet smile, had been violated and left for dead in a parking lot. Anger was a feeling that he was more than familiar with, he had spent most of his life being angry about someone or something, but what he felt right now, anger just wasn't the right word to describe it. It was a pure, unadulterated rage that spread through his veins, filling his mind with dark thoughts. Thoughts of tracking down the sick fuck that had done this like an animal and putting an arrow between his eyes. He couldn't see anything but red. He didn't hear the voices calling him as he walked through the hospital doors towards his truck, not stopping until he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder, snapping him from his dazed state. He quickly jerked away from the touch and spun around to find that the dark haired deputy had followed him outside. Daryl knew he should keep his mouth shut, but the way the guy was looking at him made his blood boil. "The fuck you want now? I done told ya'll everything and I ain't got nothin' else to say. If you don't fucking mind, I wanna get the hell out of here."

The man narrowed his eyes and smirked as he spoke. "Not so fast, Dixon. Let me introduce myself, I'm Deputy Shane Walsh. You probably don't remember me, but I know you, you're that dumbass I picked up a few years ago out in the woods, high as a kite on mushrooms and spouting off about blood sucking dogs. I remember you real well. So, you want to explain to me how you went from druggie loser to stripper savior? Because something about all this just don't make sense."

Daryl remembered the man now, he had been an asshole years ago when he had arrested him and apparently nothing had changed. He knew damn well what the prick was insinuating. He could feel his hands balling into fists as he glared at him and spoke, trying with all his might to contain the venom in his voice. "First off, I told your partner, she ain't no goddamned stripper. And second, yeah, I did some shit in the past that I ain't fucking proud of, but if you're tryin' to say that I had somethin' to do with what happened to that woman, you best back the hell off. I'm a fuck up but I ain't no rapist. So unless you got something else you need to say to me, get the fuck out of my way so I can leave."

Shane's smirk only grew cockier as he raised his hands and backed away. He knew there was no evidence against the redneck, but frankly, he just wanted to fuck with him. "That's fine, you go on home. But I just want you to know, we're going to investigate this and if I find a single shred of evidence against you, you're going away for a long time. We don't need people like you in this town, your whole family is nothing but trash that needs to be thrown away."

Daryl barely managed to stop himself from slamming his fist into the bastard's jaw, but he knew that if he punched a cop, he was fucked. He had been to jail a few times and had no desire to return. He simply climbed into his truck and drove off, leaving the asshole behind, choking on a cloud of exhaust smoke. He never even looked back as he got on the highway and headed for home, wanting nothing more than to just put this whole fucked up night behind him.

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**I hope that this chapter wasn't too Law and Order-y, I tried to keep it as realistic as possible. Next chapter will be a bit longer, but I promise it will be a good one. A little more Merle and maybe, if you all are really nice and give me lots of reviews (good or bad, it doesn't matter to me, feedback just makes me work harder) Daryl will learn the identity of the mystery waitress(I know you all know who she is, but he doesn't.) Thanks for reading! Update tomorrow-ish**

**xoxoxo Bekah xoxoxo**


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: You guys are so freaking fantastic! Thank you all for your kind reviews and your support. It means so much to me!**

**Read on and enjoy!**

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Daryl gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles ached as he drove, paying no attention to the trees and signs that whipped past his window. He had lived in this town since the day he was born, he knew the streets like the back of his hand, but they held no fond memories. He didn't belong here, a truth that was more apparent to him than ever before, the words of the asshole cop replaying over and over in his mind like a broken record. He hated to admit it to himself, but the prick was right. He was nothing but a piece of trash, just like his brother and their father before them. Even when he tried to do the right thing, this is what he got in return. Accusations and reminders of his checkered past. He had made a lot of mistakes in his life, taken too many drugs, gotten into too many fights, committed so many petty crimes that he probably couldn't even remember all of them. But lately, without Merle around to encourage his bad behavior, he had found that he didn't want to be that man anymore. It was an unknown feeling to him, the desire to live a normal life, but it was one that he had started to reluctantly embrace. He had a decent job, a semi-decent place to live, and a forest full of animals to hunt. The past six months had been the best he'd ever had, that wasn't really saying much, but to him, life had been good for the first time. But the way he saw it now, after everything that had happened tonight, that was probably all shot to shit. Merle was back, he had the cops trying to blame him for something he didn't do, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the image of the pretty waitress's bloody body from his mind.

He took one last drag off of the cigarette that was clutched between his fingers before flicking it out the window as he pulled into the trailer park. Being as late as it was, everything seemed quiet, no screaming kids or nosy old folks to bother him as he came to a stop in front of his tiny home. He was thankful for that, he really didn't fucking feel like seeing anyone, he just wanted to get into his trailer, drink a beer to calm his shaky nerves, and try to get some sleep. But as he climbed out of his truck and made his way to the door, he realized that that probably wasn't going to happen.

"Where the fuck you been, baby brother? Told me you was goin' home, but I been sittn' here waitin' on your dumb ass for a good half hour." Merle slurred as he pushed himself up from the steps and staggered towards Daryl, glaring at him as he waited for an explanation.

Daryl just shook his head as he passed Merle's drunk ass by and unlocked his front door. "Long fucking story, bro. Get your ass in here and lemme get a beer, and maybe I'll tell you." he said as he entered his small living room and made a beeline for the kitchen, not even bothering to turn on a light as he opened the fridge. He cracked open the first beer he grabbed and downed it in three gulps, dropping the bottle into the almost overflowing trash can. He could hear the sound of the front door closing behind him and grabbed two more bottles. When he turned around, he could see that Merle was already sprawled out on the ugly old couch, the only piece of furniture he had in the room aside from a scratched up coffee table, a barely functional TV, and a ratty recliner. With the couch occupied, he flipped on the dim overhead light and dropped into the uncomfortable chair, sighing as he laid his head back against the scratchy fabric.

Merle shielded his eyes from the sudden burst of light for a moment, but once they had adjusted, he glanced around the room. "Wasn't kiddin', was you? The fuckin' cell they had me locked up in was nicer than this place. Better fuckin' company too. What the hell you look so pissy about?" he asked he reached out and grabbed one of the beers from the table where Daryl had sat them down.

Daryl didn't really feel like rehashing the events of the past few hours, Merle would only call him a pussy for doing what he done, helping the woman and standing down when Deputy Shane had started shit with him. He glanced over at his brother, seeing that he was somewhere between shitfaced and hungover, and if Daryl knew one thing for certain in this world, it was never to piss Merle off when he was like this. He was too unpredictable, he could be laughing at you one second and throwing punches the next, and right now, he didn't want to be on the receiving end of either. "It ain't nothing. Just had a weird night is all." he said quietly as he popped the cap off of his second beer and took a long pull.

Thankfully, Merle didn't question him, he just downed the rest of his beer and reached over to snatch the one from Daryl's hand before speaking. "You ain't shittin'. You remember that sweet little blondie from the club, the one I was plannin' on goin' home with. Girl was kissin' on me all night, getting me all fuckin' worked up and then she tells me she can't leave work, the other waitress, some bitch named Carol, walked out or some shit like that and she had to work overtime. Acted all sorry and shit, even offered to give me a ride home on her break, like she felt sorry for me or somethin'. I mean, I let her, I wasn't walkin' here, but shit. Little fuckin' tease."

Daryl may have heard the first part of Merle's story, but as soon as the waitress was mentioned, his mind wandered off to the first moment he had seen her, the way she had smiled at him and whispered her little admission in his ear. It made sense now, the fake name. Carol wasn't the name of a waitress in a strip club, it was the name of the mom from the fucking Brady Bunch. It was the name of a woman who baked cookies, drove a minivan, and shopped at the goddamned mall. It wasn't the name of a woman who slung drinks to horny old men and got raped in a parking lot. Once again, his thoughts turned to her bruised form, lying nearly lifeless under a tree and he quickly shook them away. He wasn't going to think about this anymore, he was never going back to that club and would never see her again. Unless the cops came around to ask more stupid questions, this shit was over.

He glanced up at the small clock that hung crookedly on the wall and saw that it was almost midnight. He could see that Merle was wide awake, but he knew that if he didn't get some sleep now, he was going to be fucking useless tomorrow. He slowly stood up and yawned before he spoke. "Brother, I hate to ditch you on your first night here, but I got work in six hours and you said it yourself, we gotta get some money if you want us to get the hell out of this place. Do whatever you want though, TV sorta works, ain't got no remote, but it gets a few channels. Fridge is full of beer, might be some food in there too and there's probably a few blankets in the closet when you wanna crash. I won't bother you in the morning when I leave, just do me a favor and lock up if you go anywhere. I ain't got nothing in here worth stealin', but that ain't gonna stop some of the assholes around here from tryin'."

Merle was genuinely surprised by Daryl's words, not really used to seeing the responsible side of his brother. But he was just too damn drunk to care at the moment. He simply got up and clicked on the TV, stretching himself back out on the couch. "It ain't no big thing, you ain't gotta babysit me. Get your ass to bed, Sleepin' Beauty. You need it, can't get much uglier." he muttered as he tried to get his hazy vision to focus on the screen.

Daryl turned and walked into his bedroom without another word. He didn't even bother to respond to Merle's stupid comment about him being ugly, he was too fucking tired to think of a comeback right now. Once his door was shut and securely locked behind him, he stripped out of his clothes, dropping them in a pile in the corner before crawling into his small, unmade bed. Once he had made sure that the alarm clock was set, he closed his eyes, silently begging his mind to shut the hell up and let him fall asleep. After nearly an hour of his thoughts being consumed by a constant replay of the night's events, Carol the waitress, Merle, the cops and the hospital and all of the things that he wanted to forget, his mind finally quieted enough to let him drift off into a restless slumber.

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Daryl was trapped in his childhood home, cowering in a corner as he heard the sound of his father's drunken footsteps approaching. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before he felt the leather belt bite into his skin, but the searing pain never came. A shrill beeping noise had scared his old man away, pulling him from his nightmare just as it had so many times before.

He reached out automatically and smacked the clock, the alarm quieting after only a few attempts to hit the button. He ran his hands over his face and through his shaggy brown hair as he sat up on the edge of the bed, not even opening his eyes as he reached for a cigarette. Once the first puff of smoke hit his lungs, he managed to sneak a look at the clock, seeing the glowing red numbers that told him it was 5:00 am. He had gotten used to this, waking up every morning and getting ready for work, but he still didn't have to like it. He grumbled quietly to himself as he moved around the room, grabbing his jeans from the spot where they lay crumbled on the floor and slipping them on before grabbing one of his work shirts, an old brown t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. He stopped in his small bathroom just long enough to take a piss, brush away the taste of stale beer from his teeth and splash some cold water on his face before he slipped quietly out the front door.

It was a typical morning for him, aside from the snoring oaf he had left behind on his couch and the darker than usual thoughts swirling around in his brain. The sun was just starting to rise as he began the short walk down the street to the gas station that lay just outside of the trailer parks's fences. In spite of the few hours of sleep he had managed to get, he was still exhausted and he needed the strongest cup of coffee he could get if he had any hope of making it through this day. The ding of the door didn't seem to register with the Asian kid who worked behind the counter, he just continued on with his phone conversation as Daryl made his way over to the small coffee station, filling a Styrofoam cup to the brim with the steaming black liquid. He walked over the counter, setting his cup down as he grabbed a pack of Marlboros from the rack next to the register.

The kid at the register glanced up, raising his finger as he tried to end his conversation. "Maggie, I get it, really, but listen to me, your sister is eighteen, leaving home was her choice. I know you're worried about her, but I'm sure that wherever she went, she's fine. She'll come back, I'm sure of it, just give it time. She just needs to get over her problems with your dad. I really have to go now, I have a customer. Yeah, love you too, bye." he said as he hung up. "Sorry, my girlfriend just won't shut up sometimes. That's the third time she's called me. Women, am I right?" he said, an embarrassed grin coming to his face as he rang up the items on the counter.

Daryl just narrowed his eyes and dropped a few bills in front of the kid. He was in no mood for small talk right now. "Keep the change, Short Round." he said as he collected his purchases and headed for the door.

"I'm Korean, Short Round was Chinese." the kid called out as Daryl walked out the door, but he didn't reply, he just shook his head as muttered to himself. "Whatever."

He sipped his coffee as he made his way back up the street, the strong liquid burning his throat, but fully bringing him to his senses. Once he reached his truck, he climbed into the cab, starting the engine before shifting into drive, ready to head off to work and get this day over with. But when he glanced up at his rearview mirror, the sight he saw made him freeze, a mixture of fear and anger filling his chest as he watched the squad car pull through the gates. He knew why they were here. That prick Deputy Walsh had made good on his threat, hell, he had probably planted the evidence himself. This was it, he was going to go down for a crime he didn't commit and he had no one to blame but himself. He had made the choice to meet Merle at that club, he had made the choice to help the waitress and now he only had one choice left to make. Stay here and wait for life as he knew it to end or run, hit the gas and drive as far and fast as his truck could take him. He knew what had to be done, he had to get the fuck out of here. But in the moments that he had hesitated while trying to make the difficult decision, the squad car had passed him by, parking in front of the trailer three doors down from his.

An overwhelming feeling of relief washed over him as he saw the officer exit the vehicle, a young black woman that he had never seen before. They weren't here for him, maybe there was still a chance that he would be okay, that he wouldn't be blamed for the horrible crime that had been committed the night before. But a new worry quickly entered his mind as he watched the deputy walk around the car and open the passenger door before leaning down and helping the passenger up. The woman nodded her head at the officer before walking up the small sidewalk and slowly climbing the steps to her door. She was a small woman, clad in a pair of blue scrubs that seemed so dark in comparison to the white bandages on her wrist and forehead. She glanced nervously around the park, throwing a small wave at the police car that was now pulling away, entering her home as soon as it was out of sight.

Daryl almost couldn't believe what he had just seen. He laid his head on the steering wheel as he spoke the thought that was repeating in his head. "You got to be shittin' me."

He wasn't a betting man, but the chances of this happening had to be off the charts. It was her. The woman who he had just watched enter her home, a home not fifty feet away from his, it was her. The pretty waitress, the woman who had hovered on the edge of his nightmares all night long. Carol.

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**Boom! What a twist! Betcha didn't see that coming, did you? So, that chapter was sort of a filler, but it paints a better picture of the kind of life that Daryl has been living in Merle's absence and a peek into his oh so tourtured mind. I hope you all enjoyed it. Thanks for reading and pretty, pretty, please, review! I love hearing your feedback! Next chapter will be up as soon as possible!**

**xoxoxo Bekah xoxoxo**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I really want to thank everyone for your kind reviews and your follows. I honestly love writing this stuff and it makes me smile to know you all are enjoying it. I've gotten a few comments about the length of the chapters being too short. I'm trying my best to make them a bit longer, but with my kiddo home from school for the summer, my writing time has been cut down to almost nothing. So my plan at this point is to keep them fairly short, but this story should pan out to be at least 25+ chapters, so there is plenty more to come, as long as you guys can be patient with me. With that said...**

**Read on!**

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Daryl drove to work in a daze, unable to focus on one thought at a time. He tried to think back on the nearly six months he had lived in the trailer park. Had he ever seen her before? He didn't really bother much with the neighbors; it was sort of an unwritten rule in places like that. He kept to himself just as he had his whole life and so did everyone else. But as he racked his brain, he realized that he really hadn't been lying to the cops when he had told them he had never met her, it was the god's honest truth. But he knew damn well that they weren't going to see it that way. It was too much of a coincidence for them to just ignore it. Who was going to believe that he had lived three doors down from a pretty woman like her and had never even looked in her general direction? He could almost picture that prick Deputy now, sitting around cooking up fucked up theory instead of trying to find the guy who really did it. They'd say that he had been watching her, or some shit like that, say that he had followed her to the club and attacked her. Damn, he wouldn't be surprised if they were already waiting for him.

Needless to say, he was on edge when he pulled into the car dealership, his eyes scanning over the gravel lot for any sign of the police, but to his surprise, they were nowhere to be found. Maybe he was just being paranoid? He took a few deep breaths as he climbed from his truck, dropping his cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot before making his way over to the garage where he saw his boss standing. The old man was focused on his clipboard, not looking up as he spoke. "Morning, Daryl. I hate to ask you, but we have a new mechanic in the garage and I'd like you to show him the ropes."

Daryl wasn't really surprised by this. In the time he had been here, he had sort of become the go to guy for training new workers. He still couldn't figure out why, he wasn't nice to them, half the time he ended up screaming at them for trying to steal shit from the vehicles or for just doing bad work. But he had to admit, once he got done yelling, the guys usually did one of two things, got the fuck out of there or stopped goofing around and did their work the right way. But today of all days, his chest full of tension and his brain caught in an endless loop of worries and fucked up thoughts, he really didn't want to be bothered.

"Dale, I ain't in no fucking mood to have some dumbass trailing behind me all day. Can't you get someone else to do this fucking shit?" he said, a bit louder than necessary.

Dale glanced up from his paperwork, a look of genuine surprise on his face as he heard the stream of profanity come from Daryl's mouth. The younger man was rough around the edges, that had been apparent from the moment he had hired him, but he was usually fairly quiet, taking his assignments without much of a fight. But there was obviously something off with him today. He had dark circles under his eyes and an even darker look in them.

"Daryl, are you okay?" he asked as he closed his clip board and gave Daryl his full attention.

Daryl could see the look of concern in Dale's eyes and he suddenly felt like shit. The guy had been pretty good to him, he always treated him with respect and no matter what was going on in his head right now, he shouldn't be taking it out on him. "Sorry man… I didn't mean to get shitty with you. I just, I had a bad night is all and today ain't shaping up to be much better. I'll train the new guy, I ain't promising he's gonna make it through the day without gettin' bitched out, but I'll train him."

Dale smiled. "Thanks Daryl, you know I appreciate it. Listen, if you need to talk or anything, I'll be around. Try not to be too hard on the him, I didn't really have a choice about hiring him. He knows the owner. I don't even know if he has any experience, but he should be waiting for you in the break room." he said as he opened his clipboard back up and patted Daryl on the arm before walking away.

Daryl sighed as he entered the garage, grabbing his coveralls from the hook where they hung and slipping them on. He could see that there were already a few cars in for repairs and he was grateful for that. Maybe if he kept busy enough, he would forget about last night, Merle, the cops, Carol, all of it. He walked through the shop, a strange calm spreading through him as he smelled the grease and oil in the air. He really did like this job, it was quiet and he didn't have to deal with too many assholes. As long as the guy he was training wasn't too stupid, he had some hope that he might make it through this day with his sanity intact. But as he entered the break room and saw a somewhat familiar face glaring at him, that hope was gone.

"Well, small world, isn't it? You're Merle's brother. I might have been shitfaced last night, but I remember you just fine. My fucking ass still hurts from where you knocked me on it. You better not be the fucking guy that's supposed to be training me." Ed said as he stood from his chair, trying to look intimidating, but failing despite his size.

Daryl could feel his anger returning, but he tried to control himself. He wasn't about to get in a fight with this asshole on top of everything else. He took a few steps forward and reluctantly extended his hand. "Name's Daryl and yeah, I'm the guy that's trainin' you. You got a problem with that, you're free to go tell the manager, but trust me, if you do that, you're probably gonna find yourself without a job. Way I see it, we both fucked up last night. You called me a fucking redneck, I pushed your drunk ass outta my way. So if you plan on workin' here, let's just call shit even." Daryl choked out, trying to sound civil, but really wanting nothing more than to call the guy a fucking jackass and punch him in his fat face.

Ed thought about it for a moment before smirking at Daryl, not shaking his hand but nodding in acceptance. "Whatever man, no hard feelings. I ain't about to lose this job over nothing as stupid as that shit last night. I'm on probation and I got fucking child support to pay. Just show me what the hell I need to do to earn some damn money around here." he said as he walked past Daryl and out into the shop.

Daryl took a few deep breaths as he followed behind. He just wanted to get this day over with and if he had to train this dumbass to make it happen, so be it. He took a quick look at the work orders on the messy service desk and found one that looked pretty simple. He glanced up at Ed, who was looking around like he had never stepped foot in a garage before. "Got an easy one to start you off with. You see that Chevy over there. All it needs is an oil change. You think you can handle that?" he asked, trying not to let his growing annoyance creep into his voice.

Ed walked over to the car and took a quick look under the hood. "Um, yeah, I guess so. It can't be that fucking hard. So what the hell do I do first?"

Daryl could feel his jaw tighten as he silently screamed. Dale hadn't been kidding, this guy must be friends with someone if he had gotten hired without even knowing how to change oil. He bit back all of the insults that he desperately wanted to throw and walked over to where Ed stood by the car. He unscrewed the oil fill cap from the top of the engine, and handed it to Ed, before pointing at the hole leading to the oil tank. "That's where the new oil goes, but first you have to drain out the dirty shit. You gotta get under the car and pull the drain plug from the oil pan."

Ed narrowed his eyes but lowered himself down onto the creeper, slowly wheeling his large frame under the car. "What the fuck does it look like?" he called out.

Daryl had a sudden urge to push the car off of the ramps it was on. This guy was a fucking moron. His growing anger was apparent in his voice as he answered. "It looks like a fucking plug, what the fuck you think it looks like?"

"Shit man, ain't no need to yell. I found it. What the hell do I do now?" Ed answered.

"Just put the pan under it and let the oil drain. It'll take a few minutes, so you best just stay down there." Daryl said, trying to calm himself down. He couldn't lose his temper, not today, if he did there would be no stopping him from killing this idiot. He was about to walk away to check on the rest of his work orders when he heard Ed's voice call out from under the car.

"So, that club from last night was quite a place. I stayed there until they threw me out at two o'clock. Tell you though, it's fucked up, when I left, there was a whole mess of cops outside. I heard some waitress got beat up, got fucked too if what the rest of them sluts were saying was right. Now I ain't sayin she had it comin', I mean, I would never do something like that, but the way those bitches dress, it's like they're asking for it."

That was it, the straw that broke Daryl's back. His mind went dark as he felt himself snap from his semi calm state. Before he even knew what he was doing, he had yanked Ed's fat ass out from under the car, barely noticing the look of fear on the man's face as his fist made contact. This fucker may not have been the one who had raped her, but the fact that he thought she had it coming, that was too fucked up for words. He hit him again and again, harder and harder, all of his pent up frustration being released onto the sick bastard's now bloody face. He barely heard voices calling to him, before he felt himself being pulled upwards and shoved against the wall. He could see the horrified faces of two of his co-workers, Axel and T-Dog, through the red rage he was lost in, but it was only when he saw Dale's face join them did he start to come back to his senses, panic rising in his chest as he looked down at Ed and realized just what he had done. He tried to say something, but he could barely get his words out. "Shit, Dale…I didn't mean to…he just…I couldn't… he had it comin'.

Dale looked up from where he was kneeling next to Ed's unconscious form. "Daryl, I don't even know what to say to you right now. I hate to do this, you know you're my best worker and I've never said a word about you yelling at the guys the way you do. But you know I can't tolerate this. You need to get out of here, before he wakes up. I'll try and keep him from calling the cops, but just in case he does, you can't be here. Just go home, you're suspended for a month, without pay. Don't say a word or I'll make it longer."

Daryl felt his arms being released from where they were pinned to the wall, his coworkers stepping away as if they were afraid that they were next. He looked down at Dale, his eyes pleading with the older man, but it was too late. He had fucked up and he knew it. He did as he was told, not saying a word as he stalked off to his truck, nearly tearing the door from the rusty hinges as he climbed in the cab and slammed it behind him.

"FUCK!" he screamed as he tore out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. What the hell had he done? All of these months of work, trying to calm down and change and be a better man, and he had fucked it all up over one fat fuck who couldn't keep his sick opinions to himself. He needed that job, he didn't have any savings and now with Merle back, breathing down his neck about finding a better place, he had no fucking idea what he was going to do. Hell, at this point it almost didn't even matter, he was probably going to jail anyway. He smoked cigarette after cigarette as he sped home, paying no attention to the street lights or stop signs. He needed to get away, he needed to think and the only place he could do that was in the woods. They had been his one safe haven ever since he was a kid, the one place he could hide from his troubles and right now he needed to hide more than ever before.

He came to a screeching halt as he pulled up to his trailer, barely noticing that Merle wasn't inside as he entered and quickly grabbed his hunting gear. He didn't even bother to lock the door behind him as he made his way back to his truck, opening the passenger door and throwing his bag inside. But as he went to shut the door, something caught his eye, something that was wedged under the seat. He pulled it out and saw that it was a bag, a small brown purse, the one that had been dangling from the waitress's shoulder when he had put her in the truck. He glanced at the trailer that he now knew belonged to her. He felt a new rush of anger hit him. If it hadn't been for her, none of this would have happened. If he had just called the cops and left her where she was, he wouldn't be a suspect, he wouldn't have gone off on Ed the way he had, he would be at work right now instead of standing here losing his mind. Before he even realized what he was doing, he walked over to stand in front of her porch, pacing back and forth for a few moments before throwing the bag at the door as hard as he could. He was just about to turn and head back to his truck, but before he got the chance, the door swung open and he found himself frozen to the spot.

It was her, Carol. She looked different than she had the night before, dressed in a pair of jeans and a long dark sweater, her face free from the heavy makeup she had been wearing and her short hair smoothed down from the spiky mess it had been when he had found her. Her head was still bandaged and her cheek was black and blue, but with her big blue eyes focused on him, there was no mistaking her for anyone but the pretty waitress from the club. But right now, he didn't notice any of these things. All he could see was the pistol that was clutched in her shaky hands, a pistol that was now aimed at him.

She looked at him for a moment, carefully studying his face before lowering the gun and speaking in a quiet voice. "It's you. You're the one, aren't you?" she said as moved towards him.

Daryl backed up a few step before speaking, his eyes still trained on the gun in her hand. "Listen lady, I don't know what the cops told you, but I didn't do nothin'."

She stopped moving as she heard him speak. "But I know you, you're the one who brought me to the hospital, aren't you? The cops wouldn't give me your name, but the girl at the counter told me what you looked like after they left and as soon as she mentioned your jacket, I knew it was you."

Daryl didn't know what to say. He closed his eyes, his mind on overload. "I took you in. But I swear to you, I didn't do nothin' else. I don't care what the cops told you, I ain't the guy that attacked you. Why don't you just put that fucking gun away?"

She looked down at her hand, not even realizing that she was still holding the gun. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. But you have to listen to me. I know you aren't the guy that attacked me, I told the cops that when they questioned me. I told you, I remembered your jacket, the wings on the back. I saw you before I walked outside, you were still sitting at your table. Whoever attacked me, they knocked me out right outside the door. So, I know it wasn't you. You saved my life."

Daryl didn't know what to say as he heard her words. He opened his eyes and found that she was looking at him in a way that no one in his life ever had, like he was worth a damn. And it scared him more than the gun in her hand ever could have. He looked over his shoulder at his truck, desperate to escape from her gaze. "I didn't do nothin' no one else wouldn't have done." he said quietly as he backed away, but she stepped towards him before he could get away and when her arms wrapped around his neck and he heard her whisper "Thank You" into his ear, he knew he wasn't going anywhere. Nothing had changed, she was still a stranger, he still had a mind full of worries and right now, his whole body was screaming for him to push this crazy bitch off of him. But there was something about her, something that had made him talk to her in the club, something that had made him help her, hell, something that had made him beat the shit out of a guy just for talking about her. He didn't fully understand what the feeling was that was sweeping through him, warming parts of his heart that had long grown cold and filling his brain with a whole new set of fears, but he just couldn't bring himself to move. Not yet anyway.

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**Poor Daryl! But just when you thought this story couldn't shit on him anymore, it gives him one good moment. And now that Carol is finally involved (You know, in a conscious, non waitress-y sort of way) things are going to get interesting. How will Daryl react to his new feelings? How will Merle react when he finds out that Daryl lost his job? You'll just have to keep reading to find out. Thanks for reading and please review! Next chapter soon!**

**xoxoxo Bekah xoxoxo **


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note: Sorry to everyone for taking so long to update. I've had a really fucked up week and my head is all over the place. My son is being especially trying right now, he has ADHD and Defiance Disorder, among other things and he's not adjusting very well to being home from school for the summer. It's been very hard to concentrate on much of anything aside from his constant demands for attention, so I feel my story may have suffered a bit. But here it is, Chapter 5. As always, big thanks to everyone who has reviewed and followed. You guys are keeping me sane and you all rock!**

**Read on!**

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Daryl couldn't make sense of the thoughts swirling around in his brain as he stood there, frozen stiff from fear and discomfort at her touch. Why did he feel this way, why was he letting her hug him? He knew absolutely nothing about this woman. Nothing that he wanted to know anyway. He knew that she worked in a strip club, he knew that she had been the victim of a fucked up crime and he knew that for some strange reason, these two facts infuriated him, though his anger wasn't at her, it never really was despite the surge he had felt that had made him throw her bag. It suddenly hit him like a bolt of lightning, the realization causing him to quickly pull away from her and take a few steps back, leaving her standing there looking confused. He liked her, he didn't know why but he did. That had to be it, that was the only explanation he could think of for why he had been acting the way he was. What the fuck was wrong with him? She'd been raped the night before, he'd seen her bloody, half naked form in his dreams all night long and now he was standing here thinking about how pretty she was and how nice she smelled. This was just too much, on top of all his other worries, he now felt like some kind of pervert for thinking about her this way. He needed to get away from her, away from this place. He needed a beer and more than anything, he needed to kill something. But he knew he couldn't just run off and get in his truck. He had to calm the fuck down. He had to say something to her. She had backed away a few steps and sat down on her porch steps, placing the pistol next to her as she looked down, seemingly embarrassed. But before he had a chance to say anything, she beat him to it.

"I'm sorry I hugged you. I shouldn't have done that, I think I still have some painkillers in my system. I'm feeling kinda screwy right now. I'm just…I just wanted to thank you for what you did for me. You don't even know me, I mean, I've seen you around here before, but we've never spoken. You might not think what you did was much, but trust me, it was. I don't remember anything after I got hit, but I know when I woke up I wasn't in great shape. If you hadn't gotten me out of there, everyone I know would have seen me like that." she said, her gaze rising to meet his.

He really didn't know what to say. Poor thing was sitting there, probably wacked out on whatever they had given her, looking up at him with her big blue eyes like she wanted him to stay. He pushed his discomfort aside as he tried to find his words. "It ain't no big thing. I couldn't just leave you there. I oughta be thankin' you for tellin' the cops that I ain't the guy who done it. I just hope they find the bastard. Sick fuck needs to be strung up by his dick." he said gruffly as he shifted on his feet, unsure of himself. Another thought entered his mind and before he could stop himself, it was spoken. "Are you okay? I mean, I didn't stick around the hospital last night, the cops were being pricks, well, one cop. But if they let you come home, you ain't hurt too bad, right?"

She glanced up from where she was playing with the bandage on her wrist. "I have a concussion, a sprained wrist, and a lot of bruises. They'll heal up soon enough, honestly, I've had worse. I'm really trying not to think about the rest of it. It's surprisingly easy when you can't remember anything." she said quietly as she looked back down. A thought suddenly popped into her head and she quickly glanced back up. "I'm sorry, it just occurred to me that I'm sitting here telling you all this and I don't even know your name. I'm Carol." she said as she slowly extended her hand to him.

Daryl reached out and briefly shook her hand before speaking. "I'm Daryl."

She nodded at him as a small smile crept onto her lips. "It's nice to meet you. Sorry it had to happen like this, but still, it's nice to meet you." She suddenly narrowed her eyebrows as she remembered something. "Daryl, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but why did you throw my purse at my door? I mean, I'm glad you brought it back, I didn't know what happened to it, I thought the guy who attacked me might have taken it. That's why I had the gun, just in case he showed up here. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I can't help but notice that you look kind of angry."

He almost didn't hear her question, he was too focused on her smile. It was as sweet as he remembered, but sad at the same time. But as her words sunk in, he quickly realized how uncomfortable he was growing with this conversation, especially now that it had turned to him. He didn't really know how to explain to her why he had thrown her bag, not without making himself sound like an asshole. But he had to tell her something, the way she was looking at him, he didn't want to lie to her. He finally just decided to just go with an edited version of the truth. "Um, I ain't havin a great day. Had some trouble at work, did somethin' stupid and got suspended. I was on my way out of here and I found your bag under my seat. I shouldn't have thrown it, I just…I don't know…I didn't know how to give it back to you." he said quietly as the anxiety in his chest started to build. What the hell was he doing? Why was he still talking to her? He needed to get out of here, before he said anything else stupid. He glanced over his shoulder, his truck was so close, he just needed to gather the courage to leave. He took a deep breath before he finally spoke. "Hey listen, I don't wanna be rushin' out of here on you. But I still gotta go. You gonna be okay now? You ain't gonna try and shoot the mailman or nothin' if he knocks on your door, are you?"

She shook her head as she stood up from her steps and moved towards her door, the sad smile still on her face. "No, I think I'll be fine, just as long as he doesn't throw anything at my door. It's alright though, if you have to get out of here, go right ahead. I'll be okay, honestly." she said as she started to enter her house. But before she could close the door, she turned and added one more thing. "Um, Daryl, I hate to ask you this, I mean, I don't really have any right to, but could you please try not to mention this to anyone? I'm not really sure what I'm going to tell people yet." she said softly.

He quickly nodded his head, a sense of relief rushing through him. He was almost out of here. "Ain't no problem. I ain't got anybody to say nothin' to anyway, but I'll keep it quiet. I wouldn't worry much about it, though. It ain't nobody's business what happened to you."

She hesitated for a moment before she responded, a far off look in her eyes. "I just…I know everyone at work knows, my boss called me this morning to tell me to take a few days off. But I have no idea what I'm going to tell my daughter when she gets home from school. I'll figure something out though. I always do. Thank you again, for everything. It's nice to know I have a friend here. Maybe I'll see you around." she said as she finally entered her house, closing the door behind her and leaving him standing there in a bigger daze than before.

Daryl turned to walk back to his truck, his thoughts even more scrambled than before. What was this woman doing to him? Was he really so fucked up in the head that all it had taken was a smile in a strip club to make him care? None of this shit was like him, he wasn't this guy. He was Daryl fucking Dixon. He didn't save damsels in distress, he didn't punch people out for making nasty comments about women, and he sure as fuck didn't talk to the pretty lady next door. But he had, he'd had a whole conversation with her, a fucked up one, but still, he'd actually stood there and talked to her like a normal fucking person, not the insecure, angry wreck he was. Her words were playing over and over again in his mind. He hated to say it, but even if he took the pain meds she was on into account, she seemed sort of strange. She was disturbingly calm, considering everything that had happened to her. She was black and blue, something that would turn most of the women he'd met into a crying mess, but she didn't even seem to notice. Hell, she said she'd had worse. He shuddered to think of what that meant. Maybe she was like him, maybe her parents had beaten on her? She said she had a kid, maybe she had some asshole boyfriend that smacked her around? He could feel a sudden burst of rage enter him at the thought and he bit it back as soon as he felt it. He had to stop this shit. Now. He just needed to do what he planned on doing before she'd come to her door. Go out in the woods, get shitfaced drunk and shoot some fucking shit. He needed to forget about all of this. About her. He needed to figure out what he was going to do about a job and about Merle.

He was so caught up in the turmoil in his mind that he didn't even notice that he had reached his truck until he felt his shin connect with the tail pipe, the contact bringing a searing pain with it that caused him to curse out loud as he grabbed his leg. Could this day possibly get any fucking worse? It wasn't until he glanced up and saw Merle walking up the road, smirking like an asshole at his stupid accident, that he realized that yes, yes it could. He wasn't ready to tell his brother about his suspension, he wasn't even sure what he was going to say. He sure as hell couldn't give him the real reason he'd done what he did. He tried to think of something, but it was too late. Merle had reached him, laughing under his breath as he looked him up and down.

"Boy, ain't nobody ever told ya to watch where ya goin? Bumpin' into your truck like a goddamned retard. Tell ya, if it wasn't for me watchin out for your ass all these years, you'd be dead by now." Merle said as he lifted his cup of gas station coffee to his lips and took a gulp before speaking again. "What the hell ya doin' here anyway, thought ya had work today? You're all dressed for it, why ain't ya there?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what was going on through the haze in his hungover mind.

Daryl glanced down at himself, quickly realizing that he had never taken off his coveralls when he'd stormed out of the garage. He wasn't really sure what he could say to explain that, but as he looked at his brother's increasingly suspicions expression, he found himself speaking. "Um, yeah, work was slow today. Ain't a lot of cars in the shop, so the boss sent me home, told me to take a long weekend. I was just gettin' ready to head out of here, gonna go huntin." he said, the lie rolling off of his tongue easier than he would have liked. He hated lying to Merle, to anyone really, but he just wasn't up for his bitching right now.

Merle's attitude changed the second he heard Daryl's explanation. "Sounds like a fuckin' plan to me. I ain't been out in the woods in too goddamned long. Feel good to put a fuckin' bullet in somethin' that ain't tryin to shoot me back. You got enough gear with ya or ya need me to grab some more?" he asked, already reaching for the handle to the truck door.

A feeing of dread washed over Daryl as he shook his head. "I got a rifle in the back you can use. Just lemme go get changed and we'll head out." he said as he turned and headed for his trailer, hearing the sound of the truck door slam behind him as he entered his living room. So much for his time alone, his time to think things over. He couldn't tell Merle no, he never could. He walked into his bedroom, quickly shedding his coveralls and grabbing his jacket from the floor where he had dropped it the night before. As he made his way back onto his porch, he could see that Merle was ready and waiting for him in the drivers seat, the engine running and the radio blasting some loud ass rock song. He sighed as he climbed in the passenger seat and closed the door, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it as Merle drove out of the trailer park and headed for the highway. He couldn't help the thought that entered his head as he rolled down the window and flicked his ashes into the wind. This was going to be a long fucking weekend.

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**So there you have it. Daryl and Carol talked, Daryl is a great big ball of fucked up emotions, and now he's stuck with Merle for the weekend. Poor guy just can't catch a break. Thanks for reading and please review! Your feedback keeps me going. More to come soon!**

**xoxoxo Bekah xoxoxo**


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